


Their Game

by lucifel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-28
Updated: 2010-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-14 04:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifel/pseuds/lucifel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't that Sherlock can't play their game, it's that he usually can't be bothered. He is, after all, a sociopath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Game

**Author's Note:**

> Re-Post from August.
> 
> Author's Note: I love this fandom but I'm having difficulty grasping Sherlock's characterization. Thus, I borrow Mycroft to try Sherlock's head-space out.

It isn't that Sherlock can't play their game, it's that he usually can't be bothered.

Mycroft wonders sometimes if any of them will ever notice that. (The world should be grateful for small mercies.)

A smile, a touch, blood pooling in the proper capillaries at an improper moment. Actions; the involuntary made voluntary.

Simple.

Mathematical.

Easy.

It's the only deductive path Sherlock takes that Mycroft can't follow. (Though he'll try and pretend and make for the fact that he's only half so good by being at least twice as consistent. Mycroft always had more patience for it.)

He watches though.

Sometimes.

Mycroft watches Sherlock use sad little Molly. Watches him offer her complements in that questioning and completely affected oblivious-genius way of his. Mycroft watches and wonders whether she'd ever considered simply asking him to fuck her. (Sherlock would say no. He would stammer it; blush. She would be that much more infatuated with him after. It would be his only reason for saying no; Sherlock had used sex and his ability to provide it on her predecessor before her. Sherlock had used sex for more than that. Sherlock was much better at sex than Mycroft. Mycroft detests the exertion.)

Sometimes, Mycroft watches just a little too closely.

"She took the kids," Sherlock had said, "but you still love her." He'd said that to that cab driver. That mad man. (Not mad, not really. It was a perfectly logical course of action for the man. Sherlock would agree, Mycroft thinks. A bad man, but then bad is relative. To all men.) A mad man. But Sherlock had understood him. Twisted the knife with his words. "She took the kids, but you still love her - and it _still_ hurts."

Mycroft would have missed that. No - inaccurate. He would have dismissed that. (What did it matter after all? She was gone. He had done it for the kids. Stupid fool.)

So Mycroft watches, and he takes notes, and he wonders - some days - how long it will be until he can at least mimic his little brother's act.

He wonders, sometimes, whether Sherlock's new Doctor-colleague will ever notice.

Or if he's simply Sherlock's next target.

He wonders because, while watching the security footage his men recovered from that pool, Mycroft catches the extra second, (did he imagine that extra second?) that it takes Sherlock to fake the panic as he removes that vest.

"Alright? Are you Alright?"

\- Fin -

 

JM: I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you.  
SH: I have been reliably informed that I don't have one.


End file.
